


I Love You Berry Much

by kay_emm_gee



Series: Bellarke Secret Valentine's Event 2015 [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke Secret Valentine Gift, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mistake by Monty results in a very amusing confession and display of affection from Clarke about Bellamy. </p><p>Written for the Bellarke Secret Valentine Event 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love You Berry Much

With sore fingers, Clarke set the stone she was using as a pestle down on the table in front of her. She flexed her cramped hand, looking down at the mush of nuts and leaves smeared around the makeshift bowl. While she was glad Monty had remembered the recipe for making the pain reliever paste, it was a difficult procedure, requiring lots of elbow grease. If she didn’t grind the ingredients finely enough, they wouldn’t do a thing. She hated making it, to be honest, which is why their stocks were running abysmally low. Now, though, she had no other choice but to make more, working her arm until it tingled with exhaustion.

“More water,” she muttered under her breath, looking down at the mush. Sprinkling a few more drops into the bowl, she took up the stone again, grinding away. 

Twenty minutes later, when Monty clunked into the medbay, she sighed in relief, happy for the excuse of another break.

“Hey,” she said, turning with a tired smile.

“Look what I found!” Monty exclaimed, hair swishing excitedly as he stuck out his hand. In it, he clutched a bunch of bubbly, deep crimson berries.

Clarke just raised her eyebrows, lips flexing in amusement. Monty knew plants were not her strongest suit, but no matter how many times she reminded him, his excitement at a new discovery managed to block out that fact.

“Oh, sorry,” he said sheepishly as he deposited the berries onto Clark’s table. “They’re rapha berries, an improvement for the pain reliever I’ve been looking for. Add these to the mix, and it should help draw the active ingredients out of the nuts much more easily.”

“I could kiss you right now,” Clarke said, laughing. “My arm is about to fall off.”

Monty just grinned in response. “You’re welcome.”

“They’re pretty.” She lifted one of the berries, rolling it between her fingers. “And you’re sure these are the right ones?”

“I’m sure.”

Clarke threw him a reassuring smile before replying, “Alright, I’ll get to work.”

Monty waved farewell, jogging back out into the camp yard. Rolling her shoulders, Clarke dropped the berries into the bowl of partially crushed-up leaves and nuts. She brought the stone down on them with a sharp bang, and unexpectedly, a fine vapor sprayed up from the bowl, gently misting Clarke’s face. She sneezed violently and pushed back from the table, the back of her hand pressed to her tingling nose.

“Monty,” she groaned, wiping her face with a stray rag. She sneezed again and walked out of the medbay into the camp yard to find the boy.

As she walked through Camp Jaha, though, her frustration dissolved, and her steps began to feel lighter, almost like she was floating. Her lips curved up involuntarily into a gooey grin, and she giggled. Her skin felt warm, tingled as though a soft breeze was brushing against every part of her. She liked it, which made her giggle again.

The first person she stumbled across was Jasper. “Hi!” She called out happily, throwing her arms around him in a large hug. “I’m so glad you didn’t die in Mount Weather. I would’ve missed you. And your goggles. Even though you lost them.” She snorted in laughter at that, while Jasper just patted her on the back warily.

“You okay, Clarke?” He asked, trying awkwardly to extricate himself from her tightening embrace.

“I feel great,” she sighed, humming in happiness.

“You sound high,” Jasper mumbled, though he couldn’t help smiling. Clarke smiled back because she _did_ sound high, and that was funny to her, because she had never been high in her life and it _felt so good_. She giggled again.

“Oh-kay. Let’s go find Monty,” Jasper said, chuckling under his breath.

Clarke ambled forward, propelled by Jasper’s spindly fingers on her back. As they passed by the food preparation station, she waved vaguely at Octavia, who saluted back with a concerned but amused stare.

“She’s fine!” Jasper called out in a strangled voice. He pushed a bit harder against Clarke’s back, hurrying her along, but she didn’t mind. She didn’t mind anything right now and _lord_ was it a relief that she felt no worry or anxiety or stress. She just floated along into the tent where Monty crouched over his collection of to-be-sorted plants.

“Monty,” Jasper drawled.

“Jasper, I’m a little busy here,” Monty responded shortly, not looking up from his work.

“We have a problem.”

Clarke giggled at Jasper— _he’s so cute when he’s worried_ —and at that sound, Monty’s head jerked up. His eyes widened in concern as he stared at Clarke. She laughed again, because suddenly he looked so _terrified_ but it was adorable and he was such a _precious_ human being. 

“Monty!” she squealed, a sappy grin on her face.

“Oh, _crap_ ,” Monty whispered.

Clarke just giggled.

* * *

In his tent, Bellamy stared dejectedly at the plans in front of him, trying to determine where they needed to better fortify Camp Jaha’s defenses. He heard a rustling behind him from someone entering the tent.

“Uh, Bellamy?”

Bellamy nearly groaned in frustration at the hesitant voice. He thought he had told Miller no interruptions for the next hour. Turning to see Monty standing warily in the doorway, he bit out a response. “What.”

The boy shrunk back at Bellamy’s short tone, his neck retracting into himself just a smidge, head dipping. Bellamy sighed and gestured him forward with a flick of his hand. “What do you need?”

“Um, well.” Monty paused, shoulders creeping up to his ears. “It’s Clarke.”

At that Bellamy turned all the way around, planting his feet firmly and folding his arms across his chest. “What about Clarke?”

“Well, there _may_ have been an oversight when it came to some side effects of some misidentified berries I gave her for a medical paste she was making, and now—”

Bellamy didn’t wait for Monty to finish, just pushed past him and strode out of the tent. A worried tension crept up his shoulders as he headed for Monty’s tent, assuming that’s where Clarke went when she realized what had happened. Hearing Monty stumble along behind him, he asked urgently, “What exactly is wrong with her?”

No reply came from Monty as they made their way through camp, just an uncomfortable silence. A thousand possibilities raced through Bellamy’s head: _blindness, paralysis,_ _fever, amnesia, coma_. His throat grew scratchy, and he ground out, “What is wrong with her Monty?”

They arrived at the boys’ tent before he could give an answer, and Bellamy swept in without waiting for one. Jasper stepped aside, tripping back a bit as he glanced at Bellamy’s thunderous expression. Looking for Clarke, he saw her seated on a stump that served as Monty’s desk chair. Bellamy dropped down to his knees in front of her, immediately placing his hand on her forehead, then pulled down the skin under her eyes to check her pupils, just like she had taught him.

After a few more frantic tests, Bellamy grew more puzzled at the lack of obvious symptoms. No fever, no blood, she could see, and her movements were normal. Her eyes were a bit red, but that could be exhaustion. Bellamy frowned, reminding himself to check on how many hours she was working in the medbday. Probably too many, knowing Clarke.

“Hey,” she said, looking dazed.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly.

She just stared at him, very closely, before sighing and then smiling very, very widely, and happily. Bellamy glanced at Monty in confusion. He expected Clarke to be unconscious, injured, distraught, or crying. Instead, she was grinning up at him with a sappy expression on her face.

“Clarke,” he said gently after turning back to her. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Oh, I’m _great_ ,” she replied, settling her elbow on her knee and propping up her head with her hand. She tilted it to the side a bit, blue eyes staring up at Bellamy through her long lashes. “I feel abso-freaking-lutely fantastic,” she added, dragging out the vowels in amusement.

When she finished up with a giggle, Bellamy’s eyes widened. _What the hell._ As she laughed again at seeing him react, though, he narrowed his eyes and slid a withering look at Monty.

“She’s high,” he hissed.

“Yeah,” Monty admitted quietly. “Yeah, she’s high.”

Before Bellamy could lay into him for not being careful enough, Clarke tugged on his shirt, eyes shining mischievously as she whispered, “You’re so hot when you’re worried.”

Suddenly, Clarke lurched forward and pressed her mouth against his in a hard kiss. Eyes flying wide open in shock, Bellamy was too surprised to move before Clarke’s hands came up to frame his cheeks and then twisted into his hair, tugging slightly. Despite hearing Jasper splutter in the background, Bellamy couldn’t move, still in shock. Her soft moan at moving her lips more insistently against his finally jerked him upright off the ground, pulling Clarke with him. The height difference put distance between their faces, but Clarke didn’t let that stop her. Quickly, she placed two hands on his chest, pressing her nose into his shirt in the space between them.

“You smell _really_ good,” she muttered into him with a smile, her voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt, her soft breath burning against his skin. As she tried to kiss him again, Bellamy heard Jasper chock back a snicker and Monty whine in concern.  

“Out!” He barked. The two of them scrambled out of the tent, almost tearing down the makeshift doorflap in the process.

When he turned his attention back to Clarke, she had moved closer to him again, hands back on his chest. Her entire body pressed up against his, and it should have felt wrong, because this wasn’t them. Yet, Bellamy couldn’t manage to think about anything except how _good_ (abso-freaking-lutely good, to use Clarke’s phrasing) it felt. Still, she didn’t know what she was doing, and he did, so he grasped her wrists to pull them away.

Then, she sighed his name again and nuzzled her nose against his chest again, and he froze again. Groaning, he didn’t move her away, just rubbed circles against her wrists’ pulse points with his thumbs.

“I want you,” she murmured, sliding her hands up to clutch the sides of his neck. Before he could stop her, she brought his lips down onto hers for a second time, and it ( _she_ ) was abso-freaking-lutely perfect. She was soft and warm and _god_ _just like he had imagined_. Even as his eyes closed and he leaned into her the slightest bit, though, he knew this wasn’t fair because she was high and he was not. This was the berries, not Clarke, as much as he wished it were different.

The sensation her tongue running along the seam of his mouth startled him into having a clear-enough head to detach her body from his. He stepped away and immediately missed her closeness, but looking down at her hazy eyes, he knew he has no other choice.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, voice a bit unsteady because _he still wanted her_.

“Don’t go,” she replied, tugging on their hands that he hadn’t quite been able to separate yet.

“Right back,” he reiterated with a firm squeeze to her palm.

When she finally let him go, he walked out of the tent and almost collided with Monty and Jasper.

Jasper looked at him uneasily, and Monty outright glared with a surprising intensity that he didn’t know the sweet-tempered kid had in him. 

“She doesn’t know what she’s doing, Bellamy,” Monty growled.

“I know. That’s why I need you to give her something to knock her out. Let her sleep it off before she does anything else she’ll regret.”

Monty’s aggression faded into a curious, almost sympathetic expression and he disappeared into the tent. Jasper looked anywhere but Bellamy, letting out an awkward whistle. So, they just waited outside in silence until Monty called for them to enter.

“Told her it was more of the good stuff,” he stuttered, trying to hold up a lethargic Clarke. “I didn’t expect her to be this heavy.”

As the boy faltered under an increasingly more sleepy and limp Clarke, Bellamy moved forward and scooped her up into his arms.

“I got her,” he murmured, leaving the tent to carry Clarke back to the medbay.

He ignored the stares directed their way as he walked through camp. Neither of them owed their people answers; the only answers they owed were to each other. Even Octavia’s raised eyebrows didn’t faze him, but it was still a relief once they were alone back in the medbay. As he settled Clarke into one of the cots, she sighed his name again. Bellamy couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.

“Sleep tight, princess,” he whispered before returning to his tent and the tireless task of trying to outthink their enemies (and not about how her lips felt against his).

* * *

Blinking open bleary eyes, Clarke felt confusion wash over her as she looked up at the bright fluorescent lights of the medbay. Groaning at the pounding in her head, she sat up, trying to figure out how she had ended up sleeping in a medbay cot. She flexed her limbs, assessing for injuries, but finding nothing wrong other than the splitting migraine. As she gingerly hoisted herself off of the bed, Clarke tried to recall what had put her here. The last thing she remembered was making that medicinal paste—and then nothing. Before she could worry at the blank space, her mother bustled up to her with a relieved expression.

“Oh good, you’re up. Monty said the effects would wear off within the hour, but given that this was his mistake in the first place, I wasn’t giving his information the benefit of the doubt.”

Abby leaned in to give her a checkup, but Clarke batted her way with a resigned smile.

“I’m fine, Mom, other than very confused as to what happened.”

“Monty said there was an ingredient mixup and you inhaled something by accident that caused you to pass out. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember making the paste, and yeah, now I’m remembering Monty coming in—rapha berries, he gave me.”

“Well, apparently, he misidentified them. They were valinteen berries, a very close relative, according to him.” Abby reached out to stroke Clarke’s hair. “He was so worried about you, I couldn’t really find the heart to be that mad at him. And you’re okay now, right? You feel fine?”

Clarke opened her mouth to brush off her mother’s unnecessary anxiety, but the intensely worried expression on her mother’s face gave her pause. Shifting on her feet, Clarke ran a quick assessment: everything felt normal, but the information about the berries niggled at her mind a bit. Still, that was nothing to concern her mother about, so she simply replied, “I feel good, I promise. I should go help with dinner.”

Her mother gave her arm a quick squeeze before she left, and Clarke returned it with a smile. Her grin faded as she moved out into the yard, though, as she tried to remember why she knew that berry’s name. It bothered her through the meal prep, through eating dinner, through the delinquents’ after-dinner conversation around the fire. Finally, she couldn’t stand feeling anymore and asked Monty about it.

His eyes widen as she asked about the berries and their effects, and what had happened to her. Jasper, who was sitting next to him, choked on a sip of water at her question. Well, now she _had_ to know, given those reactions.

“Monty,” she warned. “Tell me.”

“Um, well, they, uh, cause feelings of euphoria, and lower inhibitions, and,” he paused, before blurting out, “theycanbesomewhatofanaphrodisiac.”

After a minute to comprehend his words, Clarke hummed in distress, dropping her chin to her chest. “So, given that you can’t look me in the eye right now, I’m assuming I made a fool out of myself in front of you two. Did I—try to—with either of you?”

Clarke looked up hesitantly at Monty, who was shaking his head frantically, cheeks blushing. Jasper, however, had rolled his lips inward, clearly trying to suppress laughter.

“Oh god, what did I do?” Clarke moaned.

“No, no, all you did was hug me,” Jasper said, still failing to hide his amusement miserably.

“I swear, you were completely appropriate with us,” Monty insisted. He jabbed Jasper in the side, though, which told Clarke she was still missing some vital information.

“And you two were the only ones who saw me in that condition, right?” She asked slowly, dread growing in her stomach. 

“Yes,” Monty said hurriedly, but Jasper’s glance darted across the fire to rest on— _oh no no no._

Clarke met Bellamy’s gaze over the flame, watching his eyebrows rise in a silent question. As his lips started to form a half-smile, Clarke’s stomach dropped in realization as the memory of those lips pressed against hers, and everything else that had happened, came rushing back. Embarrassed beyond belief (because their first kiss was not supposed to be like _that_ ), she scrambled up, her plate and utensils clattering loudly to the ground from her lap. She ran, despite hearing Monty call after her, hurrying back to her room in the Ark. After slamming the door behind her, she rested against it before sliding down to the floor. Thunking her head back against the metal panel a few times, she let out a loud groan. _Goddamn Monty. Goddamn berries. Goddamn Bellamy and his stupidly attractive face._

She jumped when a soft knock echoed above her. As she contemplated pretending that she wasn’t home, a familiar voice came from the other side of the door.

“Let me in, Clarke,” Bellamy said, with a bit of a sigh.

Letting her head thunk back one more time before standing, she opened the sliding panel, feeling her cheeks immediately flame up as she looked at Bellamy in the doorway. She stepped aside, he came in, and then she shut the door turned to face him, neither saying a word.

After another few awkward seconds, she blurted, “I don’t even know what to say, I’m so sorry. I feel terrible, that was so inappropriate. I can’t believe—”

Holding up a hand, he interrupted her. “Clarke, it’s fine. I know that it was the berries, that it wasn’t you.”

His voice sounded tired, making Clarke’s chest pang with concern. Taking a hesitant step forward, she said, “That’s true, partly at least, but you should know—”

This time she stopped herself, her tongue freezing as she looked up into his puzzled brown eyes. After all this time, after worrying about how she would tell him how she felt, she still couldn’t find the words. As his expression began to close off though, Clarke realized that words didn’t quite matter at this point. So, instead, she kissed him.

It was a funny sensation, because she remembered their earlier kiss, but this felt so much more intense, and tangible, like there was a gauzy film over that first memory that had now been removed. He kept still under her as she leaned into him, and she smiled against his lips. It was a short, sweet kiss, but when she pulled back, she saw his pupils blown out with attraction and surprise.

“So,” she said teasingly, “just to be clear, it wasn’t only the berries.”

The dumbfounded expression stayed on his face for just a few more seconds before his mouth melted into a pleased smile. Then the smile was gone and his mouth was against hers in another kiss, this one a bit racier, more demanding and energetic. As they backed up into the nearby wall, hands slipping under fabric, Clarke let out a quiet laugh. 

“Maybe this one time, I’ll let Monty’s mistake slide without a reprimand,” Bellamy murmured against her lips with an amused tone.

“Good plan,” Clarke whispered back before kissing him again, because now that she had Bellamy Blake’s attention, she was sure as hell never giving it up.


End file.
